Chapter 486: Wrestling! Wrestling!!

"I am Fat Tiger!!! I am the King of Kids!!!"

"I'm big and strong!!! No one is stronger than me!!!"

The deafening singing voice surged directly toward Zhou Yun's face. In an instant, every place from the Warp to reality was wailing, roaring, and ringing.

Zhou Yun felt his head stuffy, blood shot out from his ears, and he felt as if his brains were about to spray out. He stood stiffly in place, almost unable to move.

The Fat Tiger Greater Daemon controlled by Zhou Yun flew forward, the baseball bat in its hand igniting with surging Hua Hua Hua Di Huang's flames. The golden, scorching heat pressed straight toward Zhou Yun's head.

At this moment, the cold shadow lurking beside Zhou Yun stirred slightly. A shadow blade extended from the darkness, colliding with the Fat Tiger Greater Daemon's baseball bat. In an instant, golden and dark flames intertwined, neither side gaining the upper hand.

The Shadow Master, the first Daemon Prince Be'lakor, revealed his hideous form in reality. His black, gray, and blue intertwined muscles squirmed, and his night-like wings spread wide, whipping up a tragic hurricane that rushed toward the Fat Tiger Greater Daemon's face, but it was shattered by the savage singing before it could even touch him.

"What the hell is this thing?" Be'lakor roared, his shadow blade clashing with the Fat Tiger Greater Daemon's baseball bat several times in an instant.

As a Daemon Prince blessed by all four Chaos Gods simultaneously, Be'lakor recognized at a glance that this Greater Daemon was simultaneously harboring the powers of Khorne, Slaanesh, the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang, and Saint Doraemon. Its composition was extremely abstract and chaotic.

Blessed by Tzeentch and Khorne, Be'lakor had now recovered most of the power he held at his peak. Even if he were to face a Primarch Daemon, he could trade blows for a while, yet he couldn't solve this inexplicable Greater Daemon for a moment.

He cursed his bad luck in his heart.

He didn't know if it was his imagination, but he felt that Zhou Yun's luck today seemed a bit strange; he seemed to be cursed by something, as if he were being shunned by fate.

First, there were those dozen or so abstract and difficult questions that had caused Be'lakor to suffer several penalties, and then he encountered an unsolvable enemy the moment he stepped out of the door.

One had to know that the box that turned the entire ship into a sealed room clearly stated that the destinations of all doors were random.

Encountering an enemy the moment one stepped out of a dozen doors was already a low-probability event.

An even lower-probability event was that when they stepped out, this strange Greater Daemon happened to have just finished off the Word Bearers who could have provided assistance.

Be'lakor became vigilant, vaguely sensing that the flow of fate was a bit strange, and felt that continuing to follow Zhou Yun might lead to bad luck.

He swung the shadow blade in his hand, instantly forcing the Fat Tiger Greater Daemon back a few steps, and then—

"You take it from here, I'm going to open the next door." Be'lakor shouted at Zhou Yun, who was still in a daze behind him, without hesitation.

Zhou Yun's expression turned to horror, but before he could stop Be'lakor, Be'lakor transformed into a shadow and rushed toward the furthest door without hesitation, widening the distance between them.

The Fat Tiger Greater Daemon controlled by Zhou Yun tilted its body very smoothly and nodded at Be'lakor. Be'lakor also nodded at the Fat Tiger Greater Daemon.

The two reached an agreement instantly. The Fat Tiger Greater Daemon let Be'lakor brush past him, then raised the baseball bat in its hand and slashed directly at Zhou Yun's head.

Zhou Yun was hard-controlled in place by those sharp singing voices, almost unable to move. The baseball bat in Fat Tiger's hand smashed straight down toward Zhou Yun's head.

But no sound of splashing blood came.

Nine blue bird-shaped tattoos made of runes on Zhou Yun's body squirmed, and one of the tattoos detached from his body, flying between the Fat Tiger Greater Daemon and Zhou Yun.

"Wrestling!!!"

A strong bird claw full of muscles reached out and gripped the baseball bat burning with the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang's psychic flames in the Fat Tiger Greater Daemon's hand.

The flames scorched the bird claw, but this Greater Daemon that had crawled out of Zhou Yun's body seemed not to feel any pain at all.

It was wearing an ancient Terra samba dance costume, its face covered by a strange mask, and its whole body was full of strong muscles.

Looking at the aura on this Greater Daemon, it was clearly a Tzeentch Greater Daemon, but there was no cunning or wisdom in its eyes that a Tzeentch Greater Daemon should have; instead, it was filled with dullness.

This dullness was not the dullness of a puppet; it was pure emptiness of the brain, without any knowledge.

"Wrestling! Wrestling!!" The Greater Daemon shrieked, tangling with the Fat Tiger Greater Daemon.

Zhou Yun gripped the ritual dagger around his neck tightly. The power of the ritual dagger was so great that it could help the user resist fatal attacks.

The dagger, which had committed countless murders, flashed with evil light, briefly allowing Zhou Yun to regain his senses.

Looking at the Tzeentch Greater Daemon entangled with the Fat Tiger Greater Daemon, Zhou Yun knew this wouldn't last long.

Tzeentch claimed that this was a new breed of Greater Daemon he had created, named the Wrestling Hawk-Man.

But Zhou Yun knew the truth.

Recently, a strange bacterium had become popular in Tzeentch's realm. Tzeentch Greater Daemons infected with this bacterium would suffer from severe abdominal pain and diarrhea until they had emptied all the knowledge in their brains.

Even Tzeentch had no way to cure this bacterium and could only isolate and suppress it.

And those Lords of Change whose brains had been emptied were recycled by Tzeentch, injected with concepts related to muscles and fitness, and forcibly twisted into this kind of Greater Daemon that had strength but no wisdom.

Tzeentch had stuffed a full nine of these useless things to Zhou Yun in one breath, claiming it was a blessing of the Nine-Bird Needle Method.

Zhou Yun knew that this Wrestling Hawk-Man wouldn't last long, so he rushed toward Be'lakor's direction.

Be'lakor was trying to answer the question on the door.

"Please answer: Who was the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang's first Warmaster?"

Looking at this question, Be'lakor breathed a sigh of relief.

This question was much simpler than the dozen or so just now.

Sure enough, the previous ones were all Zhou Yun's problems. Zhou Yun's luck today was obviously strangely bad, as if he were cursed by something.

"Horus Lupercal."

The door lock clicked open, and a light door appeared before Be'lakor's eyes.

Be'lakor didn't hesitate and was about to step into the door.

As for Zhou Yun?

Be'lakor could only wish him good luck.

At this moment, a profane spell suddenly sounded, spat out from Zhou Yun's mouth, turning into shackles that slowed Be'lakor's movements for an instant.

"Damn you, Zhou Yun!" Be'lakor cursed angrily, but before he could stop Zhou Yun,

Zhou Yun grinned and slipped into the light door in a flash.

He didn't trust Be'lakor to go first—

The sound of a chainaxe rang out, and the Bloodletter slashed vertically across Zhou Yun's face.

(End of chapter)